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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25131340">Heal</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/MorningSun/pseuds/MorningSun'>MorningSun</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Politician (TV 2019)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/M, Feels, Heartache, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 10:21:30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>6,401</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25131340</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/MorningSun/pseuds/MorningSun</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>After a traumatic incident at an eco-friendly fashion show triggers some unresolved feelings, Payton and his friends finally find a way to deal with them.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Alice Charles/Payton Hobart, River Barkley/Astrid Sloan, River Barkley/Payton Hobart</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>21</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Inciting incident</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I finished season 2 a while ago and liked it overall, except for the glaring lack of River. You may say that I just wanted more time to stare at his face, and you aren't wrong, but more importantly, I missed a storyline that had been the undercurrent of the entire first season.<br/>(Let's not even mention the travesty that was episode 2)</p><p>Anyway, I ended up writing out a sort of a capsule episode made up entirely of feels. It helped me deal with the fact that we only got 7 episodes and not a single opportunity to cry my eyes out. This is me crying my eyes out.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Please remind me, how exactly will going to fashion week lead to a higher voter turnout?” Payton asked his impeccably dressed entourage. He was growing increasingly aware of the abundance of A-class (and B class, and even a couple of double D class in highly <em>minimalistic</em> outfits) celebrities all around them. James shook his head and shot a glance at McAfee. They resembled two overworked parents commiserating over a petulant child.</p><p>            “It’s not just fashion week, it’s a show designated entirely to designers using recycled, cruelty-free, vegan fabrics and materials,” McAfee explained, “Besides, we desperately needed a good photo-op for your next social media posts.”</p><p>Payton couldn’t argue with that. Dede Standish might be lightyears ahead of him in the polls, but she sure as hell couldn’t have pulled off the burgundy ensemble he was wearing. He had even gotten a photo with the designer herself, coupled with a flattering quote for the caption.</p><p>            “Let’s just hope that the public also focuses on that instead of the elitist side of this <em>humble </em>event,” Payton added.</p><p>“Mr Hobart, I certainly hope it’s not sarcasm I hear in your tone,” a charming male voice joined the conversation. Payton turned to discover it was Joseph B. Hasselberg – the main sponsor of the fashion show and the leader of the movement behind it. A week ago, Infinity had gushed over his efforts to fight fast fashion and the noble decision to put his family’s money towards a good cause. Needless to mention, an endorsement of this magnitude would do wonders for Payton’s campaign.</p><p>“Well, you know what they say – one bad headline can do away with years of hard work,” Payton smiled and took a glass of lemon water from a nearby tray. He was not about to ruin this for himself. McAfee and James slowly faded into the crowd behind them (not without shooting him a double thumbs up).</p><p>“I would agree, except,” Hasselberg leaned closer and smiled, “I’m not so easily frightened.”</p><p>Payton had the distinct feeling of being hit on. He took another sip from his glass and quickly scanned the room for Alice. He could already see the headlines: <em>Double throuple? Payton Hobart snuggles up to a Manhattan billionaire</em>. He had to play his hand right. Anything to avoid causing bad blood between him and one of the wealthiest men in the business.</p><p>            “You’re also not in politics, Mr Hasselberg,” Payton remarked, playing along. Joseph Hasselberg tilted his head up and laughed, a dark curl falling away from his face. He was handsome in a loud way. In his 28 years of age, Hasselberg had already graced the cover of <em>National Geographic</em>, inspired a cartoon in <em>The New Yorker</em> and was a shoo-in for this year’s <em>Forbes 30 under 30</em> list. He had a kind heart and an edge – a clever defence against those who tried to exploit his goodwill. A memory from a long time ago threatened to break its way into Payton’s consciousness. <em>The ghost of a similar tall frame and dark curls. </em> He pushed it away.</p><p>            “You’re right about that but watching you for the past months has persuaded me that there is finally someone in politics who isn’t all talk and no action,” Hasselberg inched closer, trying to block out the chatter all around them. His hand was dangerously close to Payton’s on the small table. Something stirred in Payton’s chest. He wanted to pull away but stopped himself.</p><p>            “I try my best,” Payton said, “Most things that people label impossible aren’t really so.”</p><p>Hasselberg bent his head slightly to one side with an approving look on his face. He was little frightening. Fighting for the betterment of the planet with the sort of hunger most people used to usurp power and wealth. Like a <em>vegan shark</em> (for the record, Payton had borrowed that one from a <em>New York Times</em> columnist, who had allocated six whole pages to Hasselberg’s interview and origin story. The interview had been just slightly over-the-top (case in point: “<em>While each day our rainforests resemble the literal Hell’s Kitchen more and more, at least there is a handsome Daredevil in our midst</em>”)).</p><p>            “Music to my ears. I find that people nowadays are too quick to throw in the towel when all it takes is a little work,” he must have noticed Payton’s discomfort because he suddenly leaned back, facing the room and rested his elbows on the table.</p><p>            “I’m not scared of hard work,” Payton said. A familiar sadness settled over him. One that by now had become second nature. Every once in awhile, something would trigger a memory he would rather escape.</p><p>            “I get that. I remember the first time I saw the destroyed rainforests in Peru. Funny story, I was actually there with my father’s mining company – the heir apparent studying up on the means of destruction. I was so angry I thought it might burn me from the inside. But I kept my mouth shut, the old man died and the second the company was officially mine, I shut it down and started the foundation,” Hasselberg paused for a moment and took a deep breath, “I’d like to think I was brave enough to do what my father would have wanted to but never had the guts. Anyway, enough about that. Why don’t you tell me what made you fight against the impossible, Mr Hobart?”</p><p>Hasselberg held Payton’s gaze. He seemed to have briefly dropped his bravado. A healthy dose of cynicism seemed to be every environmentalist’s forte. Payton scanned the room for a familiar face. He saw Alice engaged in a polite discussion with some of the show's designers. James and McAfee hovered a few meters away, no doubt, scanning the overall situation. Payton could not quite tell if the question was too risky, too personal. He, nevertheless, answered.</p><p>            “Uhm…I lost a…<em>friend</em> three years ago and he was the kindest person I knew and I, well, I loved him, and I would do anything to bring him back. Which is impossible in the most straight-forward way there is. So, I guess once you are familiar with actual impossibilities, everything else just doesn’t seem that unattainable,” Payton tried to rush over the uncomfortable, complicated parts as quickly as he could, almost fumbling over his words.</p><p>Hasselberg smiled still looking down and nodded “Must have been some friend.”</p><p>            “Yes, he was,” Payton began, afraid that the conversation had steered too far away from politics. He didn’t get to finish because in the next moment the world around them exploded.</p><p>It started with a commotion in the crowd, people parting to let someone barge through. It was followed by unintelligible screaming and flaming eyes. Whoever the guy in the black leather jacket was, he moved right towards Payton’s table and he was not happy. Payton froze. In the corner of his eye he saw security guards move through the crowd, but they were too slow to make it to them in time. Somehow Payton guessed exactly what was going to happen before the guy reached inside his jacket and reemerged with a revolver. Payton wanted to scream but couldn’t move.</p><p>He’d been here before. He had seen this routine. In fact, it had replayed in his nightmares for hours and hours on end. Seconds turning into years. Focus on the wrong things. Agony charging through his limbs. Mind wiped of thought. <em>I really did love you.</em></p><p>And then Payton moved. He lunged forward and knocked into the shooter. The gun still went off and Payton heard Hasselberg groan in pain. He managed to look back long enough to see him on the ground clutching his side. He had been too slow. Then Payton was pulled away by the security guards and rushed through an emergency exit into a cold stairwell. The crowd dispersed accompanied by blaring sirens that did nothing to quench the panic in the room. Payton felt like throwing up.</p><p>His friends rushed through the door with equally distraught expressions on their faces. Alice kneeled in front of Payton, grabbing his hands into hers. It was a slight relief. They were all ok. Payton pressed his temple against the wall and closed his eyes, trying to pull himself together. He was dizzy.</p><p>            “Are you alright?” Alice asked, coming up to sit next to him, “You’re so pale.”</p><p>
  <em>Sun streaming in from the windows. The blue and green and yellow of the stained glass above the window. A crisp white shirt.</em>
</p><p>            “I can’t breathe,” Payton said because he couldn’t. He couldn’t focus his eyes. He could barely get enough air to stay alive. His chest was all tense, his mind whirring.</p><p>            “Payton, you’re ok. It’s over. They got the shooter. And I’m quite sure you just saved Joseph Hasselberg’s life,” Alice tried to calm him down with facts. It almost always worked. Not this time.</p><p>
  <em>A pained expression. A finger brushing over his lip.</em>
</p><p>            “I think he’s having a panic attack,” James said.</p><p>            “Shit,” McAfee swore under her breath. She kneeled in front of Payton in full damage control mode, “Ok, I’ve read about this. Everything will be fine, Payton. Let’s do a breathing exercise, ok? Four breaths in, four breaths out.”</p><p>Payton froze for a second. There was all this ringing in his ears. Colors flashing before his eyes. <em>River’s hands firmly on his upper arms, standing just slightly too close so that Payton had to fight the urge to check if anyone was watching. River sliding his hands down to Payton’s, breathing together until he calmed down. Zoning out of the rest of the world. Curiosity at when they’d run into each other again, if they’d ever attempt to put into words what it was they were doing</em>.</p><p>Only the trick didn’t work anymore. Payton’s throat closed up and now he was suffocating, drowning, unable to grasp at anything concrete. Thoughts and memories spiraling out of control. The gunshot, River’s blood on his face and clothes. No more future, <em>no more future, no more future</em>. His lungs screamed for air and his heart screamed in pain, and it was impossible to tell where one ended and the other began.</p><p>            “What did you do? He seems to be getting worse,” James snapped at McAfee.</p><p>            “Nothing. It was supposed to help. How could I possibly know he’d be triggered by a breathing exercise?” she snapped back her voice going up from the tension of the situation, “Let’s get him out of here before some reporter gets the wrong idea.”</p><p>            “Agreed,” James said, “First, I’ll see if I can find some water.”</p><p>He disappeared behind the door. Alice was brushing her thumb against Payton’s hand. McAfee held onto his knee. He had to pull himself together. He had to.</p><p>
  <em>You have so much pain.</em>
</p><p>James returned with a small water bottle and presented it to Payton. He took a gulp. The adrenaline was starting to wear off.</p><p>            “Hasselberg was just taken to a hospital. He was still conscious when the medics got here,” he informed the others.</p><p>Payton shook his head and felt two scorching tears roll down his cheeks. Maybe he’d acted fast enough this time.</p><p>            “Good. If anything happens to that guy, Infinity will be devastated,” McAfee pointed out.</p><p>“More importantly, we need his endorsement,” James added.</p><p>“The man was just shot, could you two please check yourselves for a second?” Alice asked in her most stern tone. Payton squeezed her hand. He couldn’t bring himself to speak. His voice seemed to be lost somewhere far away.</p><p>
  <em>I’m sorry.</em>
</p><p>            “You’re right. That was absolutely tactless of us,” James apologized, “I’m calling us an Uber.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Alice</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“That was James,” Alice said, putting down her phone, “Hasselberg is stable for now. It looks like you saved his life by redirecting that bullet.” She sat down near the footboard of their bed.</p><p>            “I know this must be difficult for you to go through something like this again because of what happened with River,” she hesitated a bit, “I understand how today’s events might have stirred up some unresolved issued related to past trauma. Even if that means you’re spending the day in your bed.”</p><p>            “Alice, don’t. I…” Payton sat up and scooted closer to her.</p><p>            “I don’t blame you,” Alice interrupted him in her calm yet artfully nuanced manner, “In fact, I expected that it would happen sooner or later.”</p><p>          “You did?” Payton asked, quickly reviewing the past three years, trying to find moments that had given him away. He had always been very careful around Alice, afraid of disturbing the miracle that was their reconciliation.</p><p>            “You often try to run away from uncomfortable or complicated situations and you never succeed,” Alice elaborated, deliberately looking away. Her observation stung just a bit, but not enough for Payton to act on it, “It’s that your ambition and work ethics blind you to the truth that some things can’t be outrun.”</p><p>Alice glanced at him with a sad smile on her lips.</p><p>            “Don’t take it the wrong way, Payton, those are excellent traits to have in politics, just not so much in one’s personal life.”</p><p>            “I don’t know what to say,” Payton remarked, looking at his hands. His limbs still felt heavy and overworked, his mind shadowed by a deep sadness that never quite went away but was usually at least manageable, “I haven’t known what to say for over three years, most of which I blocked out by day-drinking and Broadway.”</p><p>            “I know this hasn’t been easy on you. And I don’t pretend to know your feelings, but I think it would be better for you and for us if you could at least name them.”</p><p>            “You’re right. <em>First step in solving any problem is recognizing there is one.</em> <em>The Newsroom episode</em> 1, the golden rule of problem-solving,” Payton half mumbled, quickly recognizing the fact that even now he was attempting to hide behind a random trivia fact. He stopped and took a deep breath to steady his heart. He reached out for Alice’s hand. She gave it without hesitation.</p><p>            “I’m not sure I can.”</p><p>            “I think you do.” Alice said, meeting Payton’s eyes. He was once again startled by how much of the things he assumed were his alone she had figured out. Then again, he shouldn’t have expected anything less of Alice. Payton felt a surge of love fill his chest. It offered a temporary solace from the turmoil in his chest.</p><p>            “What if I can’t make sense of it?” He asked.</p><p>            “Then it will eat at you bit by bit until there is nothing left.”</p><p>Payton shook his head slightly and focused on Alice’s hand in his. He was afraid she’d take it away. He imagined the sharp pang of abandonment he’d feel, the momentary panic, the jarring absence of touch. Payton cherished times like this when the two of them managed to carve out a few moments of togetherness from their busy, stressful, loud lives. He knew that they didn’t get to do it nearly as much as they should. Payton had also never doubted his love for Alice. It had become like a default setting that went without question to the point where he’d sometimes forget to show it.</p><p>That was unfair. People deserved clarity. It was the thing that kept one from taking something for granted. Payton had gone down that road once and he had sworn to himself never to repeat that particular mistake. The idea of losing Alice again was comparable to staring into a black hole that sucked all color out of his existence. Payton couldn’t even properly run that scenario in his mind without feeling a surge of adrenaline in his blood. It was a terrifying, visceral reaction deep in his bones. And after years of trying to rationalize it by any and all possible alternatives, he finally admitted to himself <em>that it was also muscle memory</em>.</p><p>Payton shivered and felt his heart pick up pace again. He wanted so desperately to escape the feeling that was about to tear into his being with the force of a hurricane. Tears welled in the corners of his eyes. Payton had to fight the urge to flee to his neutral emotionless state that had once been so familiar. Only then Alice wouldn’t forgive him.</p><p>So, he didn’t stop.</p><p>            “I think I loved him,” Payton admitted in a voice so tiny it was barely audible. A wave of electricity shot through his limbs. His heart clenched violently. It was like the moment before coming up for air after jumping into icy water. He risked looking at Alice to gauge her reaction. To Payton’s surprise, her expression hadn’t changed. Alice didn’t look at him, yet she squeezed his hand.</p><p>            “But we never talked about it and I’ll never be sure because… And in either case it wasn’t like what you and I have,” Payton heard himself panic. It was a weird mixture of genuine thoughts and defensive pretenses. He knew he was talking to fast and thinking too slow but couldn’t find the brakes.</p><p>            “It’s ok if it was,” Alice said quietly. She turned to face him, “It doesn’t take away from what we have now. Besides, denial only hurts you more. You have been its hostage for a long time. So, stop.”</p><p>            Payton could tell it wasn’t easy for her to say it. He had learnt in the years since they knew each other how to tell when Alice was pretending for the greater good. There was no ill will to this type of pretense. It was rather noble. Reason overriding emotion. The mark of a truly resilient character.</p><p>            “I don’t want to hurt you,” Payton told her.</p><p>            “I know. And I’m doing my best not to be,” Alice responded, “But I’m not always successful and I have been cursed with a rather vivid imagination. Which is why I need you to answer just one hypothetical.”</p><p>            “What if River had lived? What if I had stopped him?” Payton asked before she could. Alice nodded. Glimpses of that day flashed before Payton’s eyes again. The memory of the ringing in his ears after the gunshot lingered even now. The cruel dissonance of the sunny day outside the window and the hellscape inside.</p><p>            “I don’t know,” he said but his voice broke, “I don’t know. I don’t know. I’d like to think I could have helped him. Talk for hours on end and not make it all about myself for once. Figure things out. Figure what we were to each other, what that meant.”</p><p><em>Tell River he loved him.</em> So that he knew. That part Payton left out. It seemed unnecessarily cruel to Alice even though she was the one asking. Moreover, Payton had never actually imagined what loving River would look like if he’d lived. He’d had numerous imaginary conversations with him about moral dilemmas, obstacles to his career and so on but he’d never gone any deeper than that. That seemed unnecessarily cruel. Whatever Payton would have come up with couldn’t possibly capture the complexity of all the intertwining narratives of his life and River’s and the collateral damage that would have inevitably come from them being together. He didn’t allow himself to imagine it. If he did, he’d never escape the perpetual desire to crawl backwards in time to where River was still alive and things could have turned out differently.</p><p>            “I’m sorry,” Alice said, “It wasn’t right of me to ask. Obviously, you can’t answer that question. Just know that you don’t have to hide it from me. I love you and I don’t want to not know the source of your sorrow. Besides, out there in the universe, there is a timeline where I would have settled into a peaceful life with Thad, had a swing porch and joined a country club. I’m sure it wouldn’t have been a bad life.”</p><p>Payton wasn’t sure what Alice was saying but somehow it helped.</p><p>“That being said, I don’t think I’m the best person for you to talk about River with,” Alice continued, “which is why I texted Astrid earlier. She’ll be here in a few and I think you two would really benefit from an honest conversation.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Astrid</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The first fifteen minutes after Astrid’s arrival were spent in an awkward silence. Payton still sat on his bed while Astrid had occupied the chair opposite from it, crossed one leg across the other and stared at Payton. Some may have mistaken it for anger or annoyance, but really Astrid just had her defenses up and running. By now Payton could tell the difference. This realization gave him an unexpected moment of satisfaction.</p><p>He thought River would have appreciated them keeping an eye out for each other. While he was alive, Payton and Astrid had interacted exclusively to make him happy. In a way even when they’d talked or kissed each other, they’d both just been gauging River’s reaction to it. It was still a bit startling for them to be fully present with each other.</p><p>            “I think about him all the time too, you know?” Astrid suddenly broke the silence, “On particularly bad days I go over my Insta feed. Which only makes me want to cry.”</p><p>            “I don’t actually have any pictures with River,” Payton admitted, “I don’t really have much to remember him by besides my memories. And those, I am certain, I have already recalled so many times that they’re basically fiction.”</p><p>            “I’m afraid of forgetting.”</p><p>            “I am too. But sometimes I think we have to. In order to move on,” Payton added, “Also I can’t bring myself to do it. I feel guilty for just trying. It’s not like I did anything to help River while he was still alive, so the least I can do is…I don’t even know.” he covered his face with his hands.</p><p>            “I keep thinking of that speech River gave at the debate against you. How he was obviously hurting so badly and I was too wrapped up in my own shit and too high to do something about it,” Astrid looked down at her hands, “I don’t think I even considered that he might try again.”</p><p>            “I was mostly just angry at him for winning over the crowd with zero preparation or oratorial finesse. Then I tried blackmailing him into dropping out of the race or <em>else</em>. I must have stormed into his house unannounced so many times I should have had a designated parking spot in front of the main entrance.”</p><p>Astrid chuckled.</p><p>            “I’m sorry I blamed you, Payton,” she said, wiping a tear away from her cheek, “I wasn’t thinking of what that must have been like for you. It was easier to fall back on anger and resentment.”</p><p>            “I get that,” Payton said then fell silent for a beat, “River told me he loved me right before he shot himself,” he said quietly.</p><p>“I figured out as much,” Astrid half rolled her eyes. Payton was walking on eggshells again.</p><p>“That’s not how I meant it,” He sat up on the bed, needing to explain himself, “I meant to say that I don’t know what that means. It’s not like he explained himself. And then he wasn’t there for me…for <em>us</em> to figure it, which kind of has made me feel…”</p><p>            “Angry?” Astrid interjected. Their eyes locked. Payton nodded.</p><p>            “Also confused,” he mulled his next words over in his head before speaking, “It’s that I haven’t felt like that for…for another <em>man </em>since River. And I am definitely very much in love with Alice, so I don’t know if that makes me bi or pan or something. It’s just that when people ask me about who River was to me, I don’t know what to say exactly.”</p><p>            “Why do you have to say anything? It’s nobody’s business,” Astrid leaned forward and rested her elbows on her knees.</p><p>            “Ok, but…what if I want to?” Payton asked her not expecting any answer. The swirl of emotions in his gut took a violent swerve. He thought of his and River’s first kiss, he thought of others that came later. He thought of seeing him in the hallways and the random bits of their lives they shared in between Payton’s attempts to learn Chinese, of how life made a little bit more sense when River was there. If he said nothing it was as good as erasing it all. Like earlier that morning when he’d told Hasselberg the story about his <em>friend</em>.</p><p>            “What I meant is – a label doesn’t make your love for someone any more legitimate,” Astrid explained.</p><p>            “I honestly thought it would have been easier after three years, but I still get so frustrated over the fact that there is nothing I can do to change it.”</p><p>            “I do too,” Astrid admitted, “But fortunately, I think I have just the perfect outlet for our anger in mind.”      </p><p>            “Astrid, I’m not going to a shooting range, that is one political mess I do not want to get caught up in,” Payton raised his hands up almost by instinct.</p><p>            “I’m not an idiot,” Astrid side eyed him, “Get your coat.”</p><p>Payton considered protesting but ended up succumbing to her demands.</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p>A bottle of cheap wine flew past Payton’s ear and smashed into a Martha Stewart cookbook.</p><p>            “How do you like the taste of that, Martha?” Astrid yelled at the book, her hair slightly disheveled, eyes sparkling with the joy of limitlessness. The bottle shattered on impact and the wine splashed over the wall and onto the floor. Payton caught her eye and both of them started laughing for no particular reason at all. Because this was ridiculous and stupid and tactless. And amazing.</p><p>He walked over to a collection of porcelain figurines and threw them one by one at the walls. He aimed one of them at the glass cupboard and shattered it along with about half a dozen teacups and an ornate plate.</p><p>Astrid took a steak knife and tore open a painting of a woman with impeccable white pearls around her neck. Payton cheered her on, opened the bottom door of the cupboard and pushed on them from the wrong side, breaking the hinges.</p><p>He took another bottle of wine and poured it shamelessly over the white tablecloth on the table in the middle of the room. He climbed up on it and danced a bit, kicking plated and cutlery off in perfect rhythm. He did it in spite of the constant loop of diplomatic dining etiquette in his mind, he did it in the name of every single time he had smiled instead of lashing out, remained cordial despite wanting to claw someone’s eyes out.</p><p>And most of all – for all the times he felt helpless and unable to do anything about it. Payton made his way to the glasses that were still standing and proceeded to hurl them at every hard surface in his vicinity. Then finally, while there was still something left to break, somewhere between the eight and night glass he finally let himself think of River.</p><p>River who listened to his whining and didn’t mention his own pain. River who inspired him to fight for the betterment of the world despite barely breathing under the weight of it. River who kissed him during a Chinese lesson and permanently lodged himself in Payton’s heart and mind, turning it all into a complicated, mangled mess. River, who didn’t trust him enough to let him help. River who told Payton he loved him and then shot himself seconds later.</p><p>Payton hulked his way through his surroundings, pushing and throwing, and smashing. Letting his calm composure dissipate. His heart thundered in his ears and he was afraid to stop. In fact, Payton wasn’t sure he could stop. So, he kept going. Astrid by his side. He kicked a shelf and broke a chair, then grabbed onto the big cupboard and pulled at it until it fell forward and crashed over the table. Payton looked at it startled and tried to hold onto his anger, but there was none left. Astrid said something butt he didn’t pay enough attention to know what exactly.</p><p>He looked at her and to his surprise found her in tears. There was a broken shard of mirror next to his feet. He saw his own reflection and discovered he was crying too. Like the room around them, he looked wrecked. Payton located the last spot on the floor not covered by glass and slumped down, pressing his head against the wall. Astrid joined him and put her head on his shoulder.</p><p>            “This was actually great,” she admitted and laughed, “I’m glad we did this.”</p><p>            “Yes, this was remarkably helpful,” Payton smiled, “I feel like I’ve just been to a full body massage.”</p><p>            “High school would have been so much easier if we had rooms like this around.”</p><p>Payton chuckled. The two of them sure would have spent a lot of time in there, throwing darts at each other’s faces.</p><p>            “I would have taken this over PE any day,” he said, “I’m spent. And sad. Actually, this would be the perfect time for us to go talk to River’s tombstone dressed in all-black. Only he didn’t even get one,” Payton said, wiping his eyes.</p><p>            “His parents keep him in a porcelain urn,” Astrid added, “It’s from Holland.”</p><p>Payton chuckled at the absurdity of their conversation.</p><p>            “I think we should make one,” Astrid added after a brief moment of silence.</p><p>            “Make what? A tombstone?”</p><p>            “Not literally a tombstone. He wouldn’t even want that. It’s too…rigid and cold,” Astrid rolled her eyes and wiped a tear away with her thumb. “Something like a tree. Let’s plant a tree.”</p><p>            “Where would be possibly plant a tree?” Payton asked. He didn’t mean to sound so defensive and yet it came out that way.</p><p>            “I have some ideas,” Astrid said, “If we move now, we’ll still make it.</p><p>She stood up and extended her arms towards Payton. He took her hand and got up.</p><p>            “Where to?”</p><p>            “Brooklyn.”</p><p>***</p><p>In about an hour they were driving off from the <em>Kings County Nurseries</em> with a small willow tree, a bag of soil and a shovel. It was a miracle that their Uber driver had been so forthcoming to this unusual baggage. Then again, they were driving back to Manhattan which meant more money for the Turkish guy (as evidenced by the flag hanging from his rearview mirror), plus he had most likely seen much worse.</p><p>             “Do you think he’d like it?” Payton asked.</p><p>             “I think it’s perfect – wise, breathtakingly beautiful and a bit sad,” Astrid replied, glancing at the small tree.</p><p>             “You’re right. It is perfect,” Payton inspected it’s narrow leaves for a second “You still haven’t told me where we are going to plant it.”</p><p>             “Right in the heart of your district, Senator Hobart.”</p><p>             “First of all, don’t jinx it. I haven’t won yet. Second of all, I hope you’re not planning on something illegal.”</p><p>             “You always think the worst of me.”</p><p>             “Don’t blame me, it’s just statistics.”</p><p>Astrid smirked. They spent the drive back in silence, looking out the windows at the city bustling with life. A city River was never going to see again. Payton wondered whether New York would have been good for him. So many people here were laser-focused on achieving their goals and fulfilling dreams. Fixed on iron-clad trajectories to greatness. Maybe that would have helped River make sense of all the noise. Or maybe it would have made it all worse. New York was loud, relentless, and demanding. It didn’t allow for many missteps.</p><p>When they were going over the Brooklyn bridge, Payton realized he was crying again. The sadness behind the tears was borne out of that bottomless pit in his soul, permanently carved out by River’s death. He remembered not being able to cry at all when it all first happen. A complete absence of emotion. Turned out he’d been standing too close to the pain and had mistaken it for nothingness.</p><p>Payton heard Astrid inhale a bit too sharply and realized she too was crying quietly. Their eyes met and he extended his hand towards her. Astrid took it and put her head on his shoulder. Neither one said a word.</p><p>When the Turkish guy finally stopped in front of an old apartment building and it was time for the pleasantries, Payton felt as if he hadn’t spoken in ages.</p><p>             “Thank you,” he managed to say to the driver before closing the car door behind him. He straightened his jacket and looked at the house, more unsure of Astrid’s plans than he’d been before.</p><p>             “Are we breaking and entering?” He asked.</p><p>             “Very funny, Payton,” Astrid remarked, “You’re looking in the wrong direction, by the way.”</p><p>             “What?” he asked, turning around. Right across the street, enclosed by a gothic metal gate with an oval arch above it stood a small orchid.</p><p>             “The owner is a bitter but enviably elegant real estate mogul, who inherited half of Manhattan from her fifth husband. We bonded when I first moved here, and she gave me a key to her favorite garden.”</p><p>             “Of course, you did,” Payton smiled.</p><p>They carried the tree across the street. Astrid unlocked the gate which opened with a creek. The garden was hidden away from the rest of the world by thick rose bushes and a couple of London planetrees. There was a metal bench towards the back of it with a plaque that read “<em>For Harvey – You went too soon, you son of a bitch</em>”.</p><p>            “How eloquent,” Payton remarked.</p><p>            “Harvey was the fifth husband. The only time she married for love. He died of a stroke three years into the marriage,” Astrid elaborated, then walked over to the patch of grass in front of the bench, “And this is where we’re planting the tree.”</p><p>            “Very pragmatic,” Payton nodded, “and on theme with the rest of the garden”.</p><p>They planted tree with only a few tiny arguments involving fresh French manicure, optimal amounts of sunlight for plant growth and visiting rights. It was finally decided that Payton would be given his own key, which he was not allowed to duplicate. This raised the total number of people with access to this garden to three. They sat back on the bench and watched the tree.</p><p>            “Too bad you became an alcoholic ‘cause this would be the perfect moment for a bottle of Merlot,” Astrid said, putting her hands in her lap. Then she wanted to say something else but hesitated. It had to be something real.</p><p>            “Will you sing for him?” Astrid finally asked, taking Payton aback, “I think he’d like that.”</p><p>            “Umm…sure. Did you have anything in particular in mind?”</p><p>             “No. I trust you.”</p><p>             “Well, ok then,” Payton closed his eyes for a minute, imagining the piano intro to a Cole Porter song the River of his imagination had particularly enjoyed. Of course, he didn’t disclose this particular detail to Astrid. After the two intro bars, Payton began singing.</p><p>“<em>You do something to me<br/>Something that simply mystifies me<br/>Tell me, why should it be<br/>You have the power to hypnotize me”</em></p><p>As he sang, Payton thought of his very first Chinese lesson with River. How he’d brought him to tears by a few simple questions. How he’d been so cautious around River in fear of mocking or ridicule that usually came from people on that position on the social ladder. But there had been none of that. Just a simple, clear desire for River to never leave and always stay close. To tell him everything he feared and everything he desired and everything he worried he’d never get to do. And River’s warm, calm presence.</p><p>
  <em>Let me live 'neath your spell<br/>Do do that voodoo that you do so well</em>
</p><p><em>For you do something to me</em><br/>That nobody else could do.<br/>That nobody else could do.</p><p><em>That nobody else could do</em>.”</p><p> </p><p>            “Thank you,” Astrid whispered, a tear rolling down her beautiful sad face. She stood up and turned towards Payton.</p><p>            “Would you please stand up?”</p><p>Payton did. He knew better than to ask questions. Astrid stepped closer and hugged him, putting her chin on his right shoulder. He hugged her back and so they stood for a good while. Commiserating. The two people who’d understand each other’s pain. Theirs was the same. To have loved and to have lost. A deep sense of longing for the impossible. The desire to walk backwards in time and do something differently, say something else, notice what was ignored.</p><p> </p><p>             “Astrid?” Payton began, unsure of what exactly was going to come out of his mouth next. A very bad trait for a politician.</p><p>             “I don’t hate you anymore either,” Astrid responded nonchalantly.</p><p>             “What? How did you even know what I was going to say?” Payton turned slightly to his side.</p><p>             “Because you’ve been dying to ask it for ages.”</p><p>             “Well, I knew that you weren’t exactly my biggest fan.”</p><p>             “Listen, first I hated you because you were annoying as fuck, then I hated you because River loved you. Right now I don’t hate you anymore because leaving high school actually does offer some perspective on life,” Astrid attempted to finish her statement with her usual cold expression, but a single tear gave her away,                 “Damnit, I hoped the waterworks had stopped,” she said, wiping it away.</p><p>             “I still don’t know why he did,” Payton said, “Since the first time he kissed me I kept waiting for him to change his mind. Or realize that I’m…I don’t know that I’m not who he thought I was. That I’m actually a work of fiction, an empty vessel with a singular goal. I didn’t even know who I was. Maybe I still don’t. But River knew before I knew.”</p><p>             “I have been trying to understand him,” Astrid said, “I think that he sometimes felt overwhelmed by the world to the point where everything lost its meaning, but you always knew exactly where you were going. So, while he was with you, the world made a bit more sense.”</p><p>             “Not enough sense,” Payton added quietly.</p><p>             “No,” Astrid agreed.</p><p>They both looked at River’s tree. It was nice knowing that from now on there would be a place for them to come when the world got a bit too confusing again.</p><p>             “I’ll miss him forever,” Payton said.</p><p>             “I’ll miss him forever, too.”</p>
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